by Mark G Heath
“Imagine,” continued Metylda as she crossed from the window to be near the warmth of the fire, “if the Alesti are freed and able to govern from this, their ancient seat once again, after all those centuries of restriction and restraint.”
“It would truly be a sight to behold, although I can only guess at what they might do after such a long time shackled. Would they govern as before or seek vengeance over those that consigned them to such a fate?”
“I don’t know but what troubles me is that whoever possesses the means of unleashing them is selective in their choice. I doubt they would free all four but rather choose the one that fits with their own ambitions and free that one only.”
“That is not something I prefer to consider,” admitted Melissent.
“I fear it is inevitable. It would only be our kind that would see fit to allow them all to escape and choose how to wield their power, in accordance with our belief in freedom. Whoever manages to use the white blood to learn how to unleash them is likely to only free that member of the Alesti that accords with their own aims and beliefs.”
Melissent nodded.
“That is my worry also cousin, of course, that is assuming anyone could find the means to unleash them and I am very much of the view that that will not happen. If one Alesti is restored to power whilst the others remain shackled the consequences will be far-reaching.”
“I occasionally wake and find myself occupied by such thoughts,” said Metylda, “ and with the addition of the white blood I must admit my fear that there will be an unleashing has increased.”
“Worry not,” soothed Melissent, “the means of unleashing them was lost a long time ago. Nobody will ever have such a formidable instrument in their hands again, even if they have gathered sufficient white blood to complete the task.”
“Yes, you are right. I suppose having read so much about the Alesti and their period of rule that I am curious to see them restored. After all, we are free, so why should they not be so as well?”
“I agree,” said Melissent, “I too would marvel at such celestial creatures wielding their power over the land once again but it will never happen. They have been gone far too long. There may be plenty of whiteblood in the village now, but the instrument to unleash them has long since been lost. Come, have some more tea and put from your mind the boasts of Kathryn Dromgoole. I can safely assure you that she will not be freeing the Alesti.”
Metylda smiled.
“That much is true cousin, she will most likely sell the white blood and head southwards to build a palace on the south coast and practise her bewitching of the local men there by the dozen.”
The two cousins laughed at the thought as Melissent poured two more cups of tea, their lifting laughter keeping the shouts of Kathryn from their cosy living room.
Thaindire and Kathryn crossed back towards the inn, walking beside the well as several customers from the Last One Inn thought better of remaining inside and were now creeping away from the tavern back to their homes.
“We would do well to maintain our vigilance,” Kathryn whispered to Thaindire as they walked towards the tavern once more.
“Yes Kathryn.”
“This show will keep them at bay to some extent but do not think that they will not try again. You are to strike down anyone, and I mean anyone, who threatens either of us. Do you understand?”
“Yes, I do,” answered Thaindire flatly.
Thaindire and Kathryn reached the tavern and those still loitering at the entrance moved aside as they approached. Kathryn hurled the head towards Devid Bootlure who caught it and then dropped the grisly item. Potts’ head rolled and halted against the fallen body of Lock. The other patrons inside the inn scurried aside as Kathryn and Thaindire swept through the bar and back to the staircase, watched by all, but unchallenged. Kathryn gave a curt nod to her father who was stood behind the bar and he returned the gesture with a smile. Triumphant, Kathryn ascended the stairs with Thaindire close behind, shielding her from any that might be so foolish as to try and attack them. The duo reached the first landing and Kathryn turned to the witch hunter.
“Your swordsmanship is most impressive, as I expected, but now I wish to see how you handle a different weapon altogether,” she smiled her eyes flashing with sensuality.
“As you wish, Kathryn, “ answered Thaindire. She kissed him on the lips and then gripping his cloak, pulled him towards her room.
Chapter Three
The solid, oak door barely moved as the fist hammered against it. Four times it slammed against the wood. Without waiting for any response, the fist hit the door a further four times.
“Grizel!” shouted Reznik. He did not wait for any answer, but instead banged his gloved fist against the door four more times.
“Grizel, are you awake? Open up.”
Reznik reached for the door handle. It had been cast in the shape of some creature’s face and Reznik often felt it looked similar to one of his imps. He tried to turn the expensive metal handle, but it stayed still, the face staring impassively beyond him.
Reznik stood back from the door and regarded the front of the two-storey house. He looked at each of the windows half-expecting Grizel to be looking back at him with his usual disdainful air, but he saw nobody.
Reznik glanced along the lane and saw two villagers, the sisters, Meya and Corinne Halfhand, who were stood a couple of houses along, watching him as he battered on the door. One spoke to the other, who pointed towards Reznik. He gave the sisters an elaborate wave; they waved back, before he returned to the still closed door.
“Grizel, open this door damn you,” shouted the captain. He walked down the three stone steps from the front door and moved to a ground-floor window .He cupped his hand against it, trying to peer in but the curtains were closed, affording him no view of what, if anything, was happening inside the house. Reznik moved to the door again and unsheathed his sabre. He brought the pommel down three times on the timber of the door.
“Grizel!” he bellowed.
The door handle turned and Reznik replaced his weapon, moving back down two steps as if anticipating some kind of hostility. The door opened halfway and stood in the gap was a middle-aged man, dressed in long grey robes. His hair was similarly coloured and centre-parted, growing down to his shoulders. Surprisingly, he was clean-shaven and his pointed chin was thus prominent. He appeared to chew his tongue for a moment as he looked at Reznik and then over the captain’s shoulder into the lane beyond.
“At last,” said Reznik, “ what took you so long?”
“What do you want Eustace?” asked Grizel, his voice rich and firm.
“May I come in?” asked the Captain.
“No,” answered Grizel.
“Why not? Who have you got in there?” Reznik, stood lower on the steps than Grizel, rose onto his tiptoes, trying to peer past Grizel into the house. Grizel gave him an irritated look and raised a hand, as if to shoo the captain away.
“What do you want?” repeated Grizel looking about in a distracted fashion. “ I am busy.”
“Doing what? Sleeping I’ll wager.”
“Well, if you have nothing to tell me, I bid you good day,” he declared and made to head into the house.
“Darkness has consumed the light,” said Reznik. This caused Grizel to return his gaze to Reznik. He stood regarding the captain, as if evaluating the weight of what he had just been told by the mercenary.
“When?”
“Last night.”
“Who?”
“Have a guess,” invited Reznik.
“Just tell me.”
“How much?”
Grizel raised his eyebrows at this comment.
“ Your life perhaps?” he responded coldly and lifted his left hand as if to gesticulate.
“Alright, no need to be like that,” answered Reznik, feigning offence.
“Kathryn Dromgoole.”
“As I suspected, although I will admit I thought you might have succeeded.”
“Oh it was far from a foregone conclusion with so many interested parties. In fact, the outcome was far from clear, far from clear indeed. There was a good chance he would resist.”
“ Huh, I doubt that. Certainly he was devout, but the only way anybody has ever resisted has been to die.”
“Often at your hands,” remarked Grizel.
“I just do as I am told, whoever pays gets their ways. I am indifferent to the supposed rights and wrongs, rather like you, really.”
“Nothing like me at all,” retorted Grizel.
“Well, it is done now. It has happened and even now they make plans. What are you going to do about it?”
“As if I need tell you that.”
“You need to keep the balance, Grizel,” said Reznik.
“I don’t need a sell sword reminding me of my obligations, thank you.”
“Well, sometimes I wonder, I don’t think you have the appetite for it anymore,”
Grizel stopped his reply and glared at Reznik who let out a laugh.
“Go on, indulge me, tell me what your plan is,” coaxed the captain.
“Away with you Reznik,” Grizel waved his arm at the mercenary and retreated into the house. He closed the door as he heard Reznik call out,
“ You need to even things up. Do you hear me? You’d better do it.”
Grizel rubbed at his brow and waited but Reznik had fallen silent or gone away. Grizel moved away from his front door and opened a second door, leading into the body of his house. He walked across the rug-strewn floor and to the mantelpiece, placing both his hands upon it as he savoured the warmth from the fire below. He had only been stood on his doorstep a matter of moments, but the autumnal chill, particularly this early in the day, was penetrating. Grizel looked at his reflection in the large mirror, which hung above the fireplace and then across at the multitude of books which stuffed the bookcases lining the walls at the front of his house. Here and there, the flickering firelight picked out the titles of the books, which had been written on the spine in gold or silver lettering. He paced past a pile of further books, which leant against a comfortable-looking chair and he stood before a bookcase, his eyes scanning over the many titles. He twisted the ring set with a large ruby that sat on his second finger as he regarded the collection of tomes. Grizel reached up and plucked a thick book from its perch and patted the cover in a reassuring manner.
“Yes, this is the one. I will have a look through it after I have eaten,” he announced as if speaking to someone else, but there was no answer. Grizel placed the book on the seat of the chair and glanced into the flames. His grey eyes blinked as he stared at the twisting fire. After a moment’s reflection he spoke.
“ It appears that the time perhaps has come for you to act.”
There came no reply to his comment and he turned around, looking towards the figure sat at the dining table. The figure stared back at him, the piercing blue eyes round and prominent when set against its thin features. Its mouth opened and closed but no sound was made. Frowning, the figure raised a hand and pointed to its silent mouth.
“ Oh, I am sorry,” said Grizel, “ My mind was on something else.”
He raised his right hand and made three slashing movements with his forefinger.
“ Nathrach,” he said quietly.
“….time,” said the figure, finishing the sentence, which had begun silently.
“ What was that?”
“ I was trying to say, that in terms of letting me go, it is about time,” said the figure in a clear and well-spoken voice, which was evidently masculine in nature.
“ I don’t recall saying I would let you go. I said it was perhaps time for you to act,” corrected Grizel as he sauntered to the dining table. He pulled out one of the many chairs and lowered himself into it, sitting at right angles to the man.
“ Isn’t it the same thing?”
“No, not at all.” Grizel picked up a piece of apple from his plate and placed it in his mouth. Chewing, he regarded the figure, which sat upright, almost stiffly, returning his gaze with those entrancing eyes.
“ Come, eat,” urged Grizel motioning towards the burgeoning plate set before the figure. He tore a piece of bread and combined it with a slice of cheese before placing them both in his mouth.
“ I must admit I have a slight dilemma,” said Grizel, “ Time is pressing and as I mentioned, it is likely that you shall have to act, but I am concerned that you are not yet fit enough to do so.”
The figure swallowed and paused before replying.
“ The One True God will give me all the strength I require. He kept me alive out there did he not?” he said motioning with a sweep of his arm.
“ I think you will find, Gabriel Vindicta, that it was me that kept you alive, ‘out there’ as you put it.”
“ You brought me here, against my will. You cut my work short.”
“ As I have repeatedly told you, if I had not brought you here and more importantly kept you here, hidden from the eyes of the village, your work would really have been cut short. They would have bled you dry. You seem to forget just what a precious commodity you are to the inhabitants of this village.”
“ Brought me here and kept me prisoner here, using ungodly magic to prevent my leaving.”
“ The condition you were in, if you had been found, you would have been drained and ended up in the gibbet,” retorted Grizel as he placed some berries in his mouth. Neither man spoke for a few moments.
“ Your blood is most powerful. It is imbued with such potency that it is much sought after for inclusion in a variety of concoctions. The alchemist alone would pay a fortune to extract what runs through you, for use in his work. You must not underestimate that each and every person dwelling within Aftlain craves your white blood. Some desire it for their own selfish affectations; others demand it to play a part in wider machinations and others purely for the coin that comes with a vial of white blood. You thought that you came to this village to seek out and hunt down witchcraft. Did you ever consider that this village lured you here, such a prize that you are?”
Gabriel raised a pale hand and ran it across the top of his head, his palm skimming the close-shorn white hair.
“ Well, it seems you have acquired the prize then doesn’t it? What does it matter to you what becomes of me?”
“You were not meant to perish on the point of Captain Reznik’s sabre. I spirited you away from your aggressors and kept you here, as I have told you before, in case your brother witch hunter fell to their machinations.”
“ If you had released me, I could be helping him now and between the two of us we would be arresting the witches and others that infest this village,” said Gabriel.
“That isn’t going to happen. Not according to my visitor.”
“ Who was that hammering at the door then?” Gabriel asked.
“ Reznik,” answered Grizel.
“ He was bringing me news.” Grizel halted and popped a handful of berries into his mouth, savouring their sharp tang as Gabriel waved his hand, urging him to continue. Grizel nodded and swallowed, reaching for his goblet.
“ It appears that another member of your Order has fallen,”
“ Thaindire?”
“Yes. He has been enchanted by the landlord’s daughter, Kathryn.”
“ That harpy,” muttered Gabriel.
“Hmmm, you maybe right about that you know, I have often wondered,” replied Grizel waving a chunk of bread before him.
“So what will become of Samael?”
“That is something I shall have to discover. Inevitably, she will utilise him for dark purposes, but specifically what those purposes will be, remains, at this moment, hidden from you and I.”
“Surely, you have some kind of inclination as to what her intentions might be?”
“Well, as you know, a w
hite blood, like you and he and the other fellow who was here,”
“Sanctus,” provided Gabriel.
“Yes, Sanctus, him, thank you. Well all three of you, as white bloods are of unique interest and paramount importance to many within the village. Of course there are many others from further afield who would pay a high price for the delivery of a white blood, but it is here that your acquisition carries the greatest value.”
“So you told me when you first brought me here.”
“Well, not quite, you were battered and broken when I first brought you here, I doubt you can recall anything I said to you, for a number of days, as you recovered. Anyway, I did over time reinforce to you, your importance to the inhabitants of Aftlain.”
“ Yes, although you were rather vague as to precisely what these unholy creatures want us for,” commented Gabriel.
“ Well, I cannot tell you everything, that would tip things too far to one side. You must discover those purposes.”
“ I was in the midst of doing so, if that snake, Reznik, had allowed me to arrest Thorne. That witch is central to the evil that permeates this village. I was able to ascertain that.”
“ Your arrest of Thorne was just not meant to be, hence why Captain Reznik bested you.”
“ He fights without honour,” snorted Gabriel.
“ He fights when he knows he will win,” replied Grizel.
“ With those infernal imps in tow.”
“ Ah, well, yes, they do confer him quite an advantage, but as I said, that outcome was meant to be. What was unclear was whether Master Thaindire was to succumb to the village’s will or whether he would prevail. I was just remarking to Reznik that I thought he might resist.”
“ I should imagine he would overcome this enchantment. Such a fallacy will weaken when exposed to the One True God’s might.”
“ I admire your devotion,” said Grizel.
